


Clueless

by VulpesVulpes713



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: And Lance is the bad little boy robber, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Cuban Lance (Voltron), Detective AU, Eventual Keith/Lance (Voltron), Gay Keith (Voltron), Keith and Shiro are Adoptive Siblings, Keith is a cop, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Angst, Keith/Lance (Voltron) Fluff, Laith, M/M, Minor Allura/Shiro (Voltron), POV Keith (Voltron), POV Lance (Voltron), Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Undercover Detective Keith, Vigilante Lance, cops and robbers, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 03:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12123336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VulpesVulpes713/pseuds/VulpesVulpes713
Summary: Lance is a master in all things stealth. He knows the ins and outs of nearly ever shady operation in his city, and with the help of his team, including tech genius Pidge and their Jack-of-all-trades Hunk, not to mention Coran and his helpful hints, corrupt business leaders and all-around jackasses get what's coming to them. And though Lance doesn't view himself to be the lawful good Robin Hood figure, that doesn't stop the public from colouring him in that light, and hence the nickname 'Blue' emerges.Keith, on the other hand, has been brought in along with his brother Shiro, both of whom are special agents trying desperately to crack the case of the mysterious thief who's been leaving the city's most prominent members in shambles. Not that Keith can really sympathize with their losses, but he has a job to do, and he'll be damned if he doesn't do it well.But something darker is brewing on the horizon, and while this game of cops and robbers ensues, both sides may be forced to cooperate in order to ward off the evil lurking just below their feet.An evil too great to be handled alone.





	Clueless

**Author's Note:**

> Let's see where this goes, shall we?  
> Based on [watsonthebox's au](https://watsonthebox.tumblr.com/post/162252275543/voltron-au)

The night was still as Lance crept along the sidewalk, keeping his steps silent from years of practice. 

 

He avoided streetlights wherever possible, but was grateful for their presence as he made his way to his destination. Most in his line of work would curse the bright orbs that lit his way, but Lance found that the brighter the light, the deeper the shadow...and he was all about shadows. 

 

He could see the building up ahead, but knew the pathway well enough already that choosing the safest route was simple. He didn’t even bother consulting the roughly sketched map Pidge had drawn up for him as he edged closer to his destination.

 

See, this was one of the rare occasions where Lance was sent to his own district, the place he grew up, was  _ still  _ growing up  _ in _ , but he wasn’t as worried as one would normally be in the same situation. He knew his hometown. Had the alleys memorized; the streets imprinted on the back of his eyelids.

 

And besides, the job Pidge had assigned him was easy: sneak in, survey the room, take pictures of the safe and surrounding area, sneak out.

 

There was no need for his skills in artillery use this time. Simply his extensive knowledge in acrobatics and lock picking that were common for scouting missions.

 

_ Easy peasy lemon mcfreakin squeezy.  _

 

He had done the same thing countless times before, and was planning on being back at their base within the hour. Then it would be up to Hunk and Pidge to try and crack the codes and provide him with the intel needed from that point on.

 

It was almost boring really, this job. He had been sneaking around his whole life, but had really only come into the spotlight in recent years, where some of his more notable heists had been brought to the attention of the public via the police force. 

 

Front page on the papers, detailed journal articles about the incidents….it was doing wonders for Lance’s ego. 

 

And to be frank, it wasn’t like what he did was anything  _ wrong _ per say. Ethically maybe, but morally? Never. 

 

Lance and his team targeted only those able to spare the expense, usually high end business sharks who liked to shit all over the little guys to further expand their wealth. It was harmless, mostly, and where the police had likely been trying to deter his team by bringing them to the attention of the public eye, the effects had been the complete opposite. 

 

People  _ liked _ what Lance and his team did. So much so in fact, that they had taken to calling him a rather endearing nickname; one that portrayed exactly how his ‘clients’ felt after they had been paid a visit.  

 

_ Blue. _

 

Lance had been panicked when he first learned of the name, seeing as his eyes were of the same colour, and he worried that there had been a photo circulating around that someone had managed to take during one of his jobs. 

 

But apparently the nickname was entirely unrelated to his eyes, and Lance’s persona had remained a mystery, with only a colour as his trademark.

 

It was pretty awesome, the more Lance thought about it, and ‘Blue’ had sort of become his thing. So much so in fact, that he had purchased a pair of gloves in the same hue as a sort of...tribute almost, to his adoring fans.

 

Hunk had warned him about playing into the hands of the police, and saying things like “it’s all part of their plan to lure you out!” or “don’t encourage this!”

 

But Pidge had been more or less on board with the whole thing, and her word held more authority than Hunk’s when it came to their mission. If Pidge thought it was safe, then there was nothing to worry about.

 

_ Blue _ was just Lance’s work title anyways. His secret identity. And if the public wanted to give  a name to the person making their lives just a little bit more enjoyable by taking down the jerks on top, then hey, who was he to deprive them of that? So long as they didn't find out about the kids behind it all, then where was the harm?

 

_ And there are much worse things to be called than ‘Blue’.  _

 

_ They could have made my nickname ‘Rat’ or ‘Shadow’ or something equally as bland.  _

 

_ Blue is cool. _

 

_ Just like me. _

 

Lance’s thoughts were cut short as he rounded the corner of the building adjacent to the one he was planning on breaking into, coming to an abrupt halt as he spotted someone up ahead. 

 

He ducked back into the safety of the shadows, and let his head peak around the corner once more to see if he had been spotted. 

 

There, standing with his back partially turned to him and wearing a bulky red bomber jacket and leather boots, was a man. Lance judged him to be about the his age just based on his stature and body type, but didn’t recognize him as any of the youth that would usually be wandering these streets so late at night. His eyes travelled up the man’s body, identifying something shiny on his chest, as well as potential weak points and areas that may be stashing weapons, when he spotted it.

 

“I-is that a fucking  _ mullet?!” _

 

The man whirled.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

_ Shit…! _

 

Lance hadn’t meant to say that out loud, and flattened himself against the side of the wall, willing himself to merge with the brick. He usually preferred to keep as low a profile as possible on the nights of his heists, not only because that was the logical thing to do, but also to add to the mystery that surrounded his personna.

 

Blue was a master criminal, according to the newspapers, and though Lance considered himself to be more of a convenient vigilante, stealing only from those who could spare the expense and shame, he wasn’t about to correct them, much less be caught in the act.

 

Besides, the whole ‘Robin Hood’ identity was really working for him, and so long as he was careful, the job would last him a while.

 

Which was why he was cursing himself for having spoken at all in the first place. He had a unsettling feeling that the man around the corner was a cop, despite him not wearing the uniform. He could sense the almighty ego; the whole ‘I’m a good guy because the law says so’ thing that really stirred Lance up. 

 

Plus he had seen what he now knew to be a badge clearly displayed on the guy’s jacket.

 

_ Rookie. Everyone knows to hide your badge in your wallet or something.  _

 

_ Only cowboy sheriffs wear them on their chests like that. _

 

It was a distressing realization. A rookie cop was never a good thing, especially for people like Lance. They were too trigger happy, and more than willing to abide by the strict code of conduct in favour of letting a guy off with a warning and slap on the wrist. 

 

_ Shit! _

 

Lance groaned internally, smacking his head lightly against the wall as he strategized. 

 

He had never been a fan of the police to begin with, especially after hearing about all the injustices they’d committed and gotten away with just because of a uniform. His own best friend, partner in crime and, well, Little John really, had been harassed by cops on multiple occasions, simply due to the colour of his skin. Poor Hunk was the nicest, most kind-hearted person Lance knew, and though he tended to worry a bit more than was healthy or someone his age, he didn’t deserve that blatant disrespect. 

 

And maybe Lance’s own line of work had something to do with his detest of the police force, but, hey, a guy's gotta make a living somehow, and every great hero needs a worthy rival.

 

_ But still….a rookie?!  _

 

_ My luck is absolute garbage tonight. _

 

“Who’s there?” the man called out again, and Lance knew there was no use hiding. He could, easily, but that would only heighten this man’s senses, which wouldn’t bode well for the task Lance was about to carry out.

 

_ And if he really is a rookie then he’ll be on my case faster than a dog on dinner scraps.  _

 

_ Just, play it cool. You’re good at that. _

 

Lance took a deep breath and rounded the corner, slapping on an easy grin and doing his best to appear nonchalant and completely innocent. 

 

It wasn’t hard to do.

He  _ was _ a professional after all. 

 

The man’s back was to him, hand hovering near his belt, which Lance  _ knew  _ was hiding a weapon of some sort, and felt a wave of resentment wash over him. It didn’t last long though, and quickly transitioned into nausea upon seeing the god-awful hairdo the cop was sporting once again.

 

No badge or uniform could ever make up for  _ that _ injustice to humanity.

 

“It’s Billie Ray Cyrus, and he wants his mullet back,” Lance called out in reply to the cop’s earlier question, hands in his pockets casually as he strolled towards the man. His eyes were latched to the hairstyle like a fly in glue; unwilling and yet, with no real choice. 

 

_ Jesus, that it the  _ ugliest  _ fucking thing I’ve ever seen in my- _

His thoughts were snubbed out faster than candle in a rainstorm as the man turned around to see who had spoken.

 

_ Oh my god- _

 

The breath was knocked straight from Lance’s lungs as he was met with a sleek jawline, high cheekbones, and thick expressive eyebrows that hung low over slightly angled eyes that were such a dark blue they were nearly indigo in this lighting. His hair, which Lance had been mocking mere moments before, framed the work of art that was this man’s face so perfectly that Lance found himself wondering if mullets had always looked this good on people, or if this guy was just an outlier. 

 

Whatever the case, his face should have been illegal, looking the way it did, but luckily, Lance was all about crime. 

 

_ Oh this should be fun! _

 

“Ex _ cuse me? _ ” the man said, annoyance clearly evident in his tone, and Lance’s attention was brought to the his mouth. It was twisted in an angry pout that was so out of place among the other delicate features that it was almost comical, but Lance knew better than to laugh. 

 

He also knew better than to keep staring, and quickly averted his eyes to prevent himself from doing something drastic.

 

Lance slipped back into his chill exterior, stifling the sparks that were threatening to turn into flame as he imagined all the possible ways to make that face his; to show the world that it belonged to him.

 

To leave Blue’s fingerprints all over the scene.

 

 _Yikes, cool it there bud,_ _this guy’s a cop._

 

The thought allowed Lance to clear his mind, focusing back on why he was even here in the first place, and how he was going to get out of this mess without drawing more attention to himself.

 

“Just sayin...” He spoke calmly, moseying up to the man and leaning casually against the stone wall of the building he’d been scoping out. Actually, now that he thought about, why was there a cop here in the first place? Pidge had told him the area would be clear until a little after midnight, and yet, here he was, face to face with a man who could easily put him in handcuffs and-

 

_ Head out of the gutter Lance!  _ he scolded himself, mind having briefly flashed a very enticing image of what those handcuffs could do, and how willing he would be to that scenario.

 

_ Focus! _

 

“You do realize who you’re talking to, don’t you?” the man asked, voice bordering on threatening as he glowered at Lance. He folded his arms across his chest, finger pointing to the badge there slyly, as if warning Lance that he was an officer, and should show him proper respect.

 

_ Pfft. As if Woody. _

 

_ Time to feign ignorance and see what this guy is all about. _

 

“No clue,” he replied teasingly, extending a hand and quirking an eyebrow. “But we can fix that easily. The name’s Lance.” 

 

It was dangerous, giving out his real name like that, but if the cop asked for ID, for whatever outlandish reason, it was better to not get caught in such a blatant lie. 

 

_ And besides, I’ve always wanted to use that line. _

 

The officer narrowed his eyes at him, staring at his hand as if it were a weapon. And it could be really, but this guy didn’t need to know that. After a few moments of silence in which nothing remotely close to a greeting occurred, Lance huffed, and let his hand drop.

 

“And you must be  _ Rude, _ ” he grumbled, forgetting once again that he was supposed to be keeping a low profile, not riling up a cop. “Pleasure to make to your acquaintance.” 

 

Oh well. Old habits die hard, right?

 

The man had the decency to looked ashamed at least, which gave Lance some satisfaction. 

 

_ A rookie with the ability to feel guilt? That’s new. _

 

“Oh, uh-” the man stammered, eyebrows rising slightly as he his face relaxed, flushing slightly as he uncrossed his arms. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to, it’s just-” he broke off with a long sigh, and Lance tilted his head to the side to better analyze his face. 

 

Was this guy nervous? 

 

Holy shit...was  _ he _ making this guy nervous?!

 

_ That could definitely work in my favour. _

 

“I don’t really do handshakes,” the man finished lamely, but Lance got the feeling that he was being sincere. Still, knowing now that this guy wasn’t all macho macho gun boy, and had  _ some _ sense of humility, opened a gateway of possibilities, and Lance decided he could afford a few minutes of harmless flirting before getting on his way.

 

Besides, his line of work didn’t exactly present him with many opportunities for dating, so what harm could a little conversation do?

 

With a cop?

 

Who could put him in jail with even a single slip up on his part? 

 

Yeah. No worries.

 

“Ah,” Lance went on, pushing off the side of the wall and taking a few steps forward. The cop watched him, eyes following his every move with trained practice, as if waiting for Lance to pounce. It was doing wonders for his ego, knowing he was keeping this guy on edge, and he allowed a lopsided grin to compliment his own features as he came to a stop a few feet away. “So you more of a high five kinda guy? Fist bump? Complicated-secret-handshake-that-lasts-five-minutes sort of fellow?” 

 

The cop smiled, ducking his head in an attempt to hide the expression, but Lance had seen the quick upwards tilt of lips, and-  _ oh god, are those dimples?! _

 

“More of a head nod sort of guy actually,” the man explained, placing both hands on his sides and cocking a knee, which accentuated his hips and…. _ oh my, are all policemen that bodacious? _

 

Lance felt his skin heat as his eyes traced the curvature of the man in front of him, but he didn’t allow his thoughts to be betrayed on his face, and smirked slyly in response to the comment.

 

“Classic. Bringing back the old school. I like that.” The man’s cheeks darkened, and Lance had the satisfaction of seeing a cop blush for the first time. 

 

_ Now this is something I could get used to. _

 

_ I wonder how far I can push my luck? _

 

“So,” he went on, sliding in a bit closer and lowering his voice to barely a whisper. “What’s a fine gentleman like you doing wandering these streets so late at night?”

 

The man frowned, though there was a hint of humour flickering weakly in his eyes as they scanned over Lance’s face.

 

“I could ask the same as you. Isn’t it a bit late for a stroll? Especially around these parts.”

 

Lance winced at the last remark, but chose to ignore it in favour of keeping things civil. The comment still stung however, and tarnished the impression Lance had been slowly building of the man in front of him. 

 

This  _ was _ his home after all, and Lance knew full well what was meant by ‘these parts’, but if he grew too defensive now the cop might be more suspicious of him. Better to just play it cool and lie. 

 

And Lance was an excellent liar.

 

“I’m staying with my uncle for a few weeks while my mom is in the hospital.” He watched the man’s eyes grow wide with concern, and mentally patted himself on the back. No one ever really wanted to be wary of someone with a pitiful life, and having a mother in the hospital was a sure-fire way to keep this guy from getting too nosy. 

 

_ Sucker. _

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. I hope she gets better soon.” Lance had to bite his tongue to keep from smiling, but had to admit he was a bit touched at the sentiment and genuine concern in the man’s voice. In truth, his mother was perfectly fine, if a little stressed, and a whole hell of a lot overworked. 

 

She didn’t know what it was Lance did for a living, and Lance planned on keeping it that way. So long as he was able to help her and the rest of his family out financially, then his own life would remain a secret to them. 

 

And as for his uncle, well, Coran  _ could _ technically pass for one, but not by blood. The man was an elusive member of their small organization, and would often spend nights on the street in order to gain access to information Pidge, he, or Hunk were unable to attain.

 

Apparently people liked to gossip, and didn’t think the homeless had ears, so the cover worked well enough.

 

“Still though,” the officer went on, tone shifting from soft to stern, “these streets aren’t safe. You should go home to your uncle.” 

 

_ Okay dad, Jesus. _

 

These were  _ his  _ streets. They were safe because of  _ him. _ Not this random policeman who just,  _ showed up _ out of the blue. But Lance didn’t say that either. He could understand where this guy was coming from, somewhat, and figured it best to just continue to play along. 

 

“I guess….” he drawled teasingly. He had said ‘play’ after all.  “I was just out catching Pokémon and taking over some gyms while it was quiet.” 

 

The man gave him a blank stare in return for the extra news. That was another thing Lance had learned through experience: people were more likely to believe a lie if you gave them more information than was necessary. 

 

It worked a good majority of the time, but in all honesty, Lance  _ had _ been stopping at every Pokéstop in order to refill his supplies, and pulled out his phone as further proof. 

 

The cop remained unimpressed, if a little bored, as Lance showed him the screen.

 

“Pokémon Go? Don’t tell me you don’t play…” he tilted his head at the man in mock indignation, who blew out a slow breath.

 

“I...tried it, but it was pretty boring,” he admitted, and Lance tittered theatrically.

 

“Wow. I can’t believe I’m standing in the presence of hater. Team Rocket much?”

 

The man chuckled, the huff of air leaving his lips and washing over Lance warmly. 

 

It smelt like mint chocolate.

 

_ I fucking love mint chocolate! _

 

“Team Instinct, actually,” the guy continued, and Lance was snapped out of his thoughts by the confession. 

 

“Woah, same! You should help me take a gym!” 

 

“Can’t, I’m busy.” 

 

Lance scoffed.

 

“Pfft, doing what?”

 

“My job.”

 

Lance wiggled his eyebrows teasingly at that, slipping his phone back in his pocket with one hand. He was pleased with the playful banter, and more than willing to take it a step further. 

 

“Ah, a man of the night. Unexpected, but I don’t judge.”

 

The man flushed again, this time accompanied by a spectacular pout that had Lance’s heart performing backflips unexpectedly as a series of revelations went through his head.

 

_ Oh what I want to do to those wonderfully lush lips. _

 

_ Oh what I want them to do to me. _

 

And: 

 

_ Oh god I’m in so much trouble if Pidge finds out about this! _

 

“I’m not a prostitute!” the man shouted, his voice echoing off the walls and bouncing down the streets like a rubber ball. He hastily clamped a hand over his mouth and glanced around, but if anyone had been around to hear, they didn’t come running. 

 

Lance chuckled, both out of amusement at his own jest and the reaction it had invoked.

 

“‘Course not darling,” he winked for added measure, very much pleased with the redness creeping up the cop’s neck. “Besides,” he leaned in this time, so that their faces were dangerously close, and heard the sharp intake of breath from the other. “You’d probably be too expensive for the likes of me anyways.”

 

The man stepped back almost clumsily, crossing his arms over his chest once again and letting his hair fall down across his forehead.

 

“I’m  _ not _ a prostitute,” he practically whined; face so red Lance could feel the heat coming off of it in waves. 

 

_ Cute. _

 

“Sounds like something a prostitute would say.”

 

The man frowned, turning his face away with an indignant huff and jutting out his lower lip; the entire display reminiscent of a child trying desperately to win an argument. 

 

“I’m on duty,” he said, not looking at Lance but clearly wanting to give some sort of explanation to disqualify ‘prostitute’ from potential jobs. It was downright endearing, made even moreso by the last part: “Classified information beyond that point.”

 

“Oh?” Lance cooed, shifting his body so he was once again standing in front of the man, but not as close, so as to not come across as overbearing or pushy. He was, after all, not a monster, and knew when to respect personal space. And this  _ was _ still a rookie cop with a gun he was speaking with. Best not to toe the line too much. 

 

But then again….

 

“Classified as in, if you told me, you’d have to kill me?” 

 

Where was the fun in playing it safe?

 

The man side-eyed him for a moment, likely debating if the remark was worth a reply, before letting his arms drop to his hips again as he turned to face Lance fully.

 

“More like, if I told you, I’d get in a lot of trouble with the department.” 

 

“Hmm,” Lance nodded. “Wouldn’t want that, now would we?”

 

The man narrowed his eyes at Lance, indigo turning a dark black as the shadows played with the colouring, and grunted skeptically.

 

“ _ I  _ wouldn’t, but I get the feeling  _ you _ might.” 

 

Lance scoffed, placing a hand over his chest in mock hurt. 

 

_ Oh if only you knew the half of it! _

 

“You wound me! And here I was, just trying to make conversation. What has the world come to, honestly.”

 

The man was smiling at Lance’s theatrics, which only encouraged him to continue, but he never got the chance. The cop’s next words did something that was incredibly rare, and left Lance momentarily speechless; mouth open foolishly as he tried to process the words.

 

“Well, if it’s conversation you’re after, then how about you meet me for coffee tomorrow morning at the Altea? I’ll be off duty then, and may be open to more than a mere head nod.” 

 

Lance couldn’t breathe. Had this guy, this outrageously gorgeous man, just  _ asked him out?! _

 

_ Me!  _

 

_ A cop just asked me, a lowly criminal, out on a date!  _

 

_ This is nearly as ironic as this guy’s mullet! _

 

“I..uh-the Altea?” he managed to ask, spitting out the sentence with more effort than should have been necessary. The Altea was a high class place on the upper side of town. Lance had only ever been there at night, scoping out new places for heists and the like. It was on many an occasion he passed by the darkened windows of the coffee shop, never daring to stop and peek inside.

 

Never in his life even  _ dreaming  _ of going in, much less being  _ invited.  _

 

And yet, here he was, already mentally setting aside the time to meet up with this officer, as if his own profession wouldn’t be an issue at all.

 

_ It’s just coffee. At a fancy shop.  _

 

_ With a cop… _

 

_ A handsome cop, but a cop nonetheless. _

 

_ Just a cop and a robber, out on the town. It’s poetic really.  _

 

_ And wow, cop is a really weird word... _

 

Lance pushed the thoughts aside briskly. Maybe this could work. It would be like having someone on the inside. 

 

He could be an infiltrator of the police force.

 

_ Yeah…that could work... _

 

Or, at least, that’s what he would tell Pidge and Hunk. They didn’t need to know that he was genuinely interested in going out on a date with this guy.

 

No. To them it would be strictly professional. For him it would be, hopefully, a bit more than that.

 

“Yeah,” the man went on, oblivious to Lance’s inner monologues whilst rubbing the back of his neck absently. “Unless you don’t want to, I just thought-”

 

“Sure,” Lance interrupted, and committed the large, toothy grin that spread out on the cop's face to memory. That was something he could get used to seeing. “I’ll be there.”

 

The blush that surfaced on the man’s cheeks was so endearing that Lance had to fight the urge to kiss it away, but somehow managed to restrain himself.

 

_ Can’t come across as too eager.  _

 

_ Oh...but lips… _

 

“My name’s Keith, by the way,” the man’s voice cutting through the fog of thoughts clouding Lance’s mind.

 

Lance raised an eyebrow teasingly upon hearing the confession, then bobbed his head once in a single nod.

 

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he replied, and dimples appeared as the man’s smile grew, realizing what it was Lance was doing. He nodded in return.

 

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replied. Then, with a quick, completely surprising but utterly endearing wink: “Until tomorrow then.”

 

Lance could only manage a strangled “okay” as he watched the man turn away, heading down one of the side streets opposite them. He looked back with a cheery wave, and Lance felt his own grin creep across his lips as he raised his hand in farewell.

 

And then the man,  _ Keith, _ turned the corner, and was gone. It took Lance several minutes to process the entire conversation, much less move his legs, as his eyes tried to see beyond the brick and shadow that now hid Keith from view. 

 

What had just  _ happened!?  _

 

Never in his life had Lance ever imagined his flirting would not only get him out of a tricky situation, but also land him a hot date! That was a thing out of movies! That was something that only happened to other people, not sneaky street rats who turned to crime in order to feed their families. 

 

And, oh god, what if this guy found out who Lance really was? What if his secret was revealed?! But, then again, what if it wasn’t? What if this could actually happen?

 

The thoughts chased themselves around his head, a merry-go-round of endless revolutions, until Lance was forced to physically shake his head of them in order to gain some reprieve.

 

Whatever. 

 

He would play this out. See what happened. It was just a date. Just two bros, grabbing a coffee together, one a cop, the other a robber. 

 

And as Lance walked back down the street, rounding the corner he had originally come from, he let himself grow hopeful that this could work out. 

 

As he jumped the fence that bordered the building he had been scoping out, he allowed his mind to wander to their upcoming date.

 

As he scaled the side of the building, nimble as a cat and twice as stealthy, he thought about those indigo eyes staring back at him, and felt a shiver run down his spine that was definitely  _ not _ due to the cold.

 

And as he pried open the window on the top most floor, ducking in with a quick surveillance of the area, Lance felt the smile grow on his face, knowing that tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

 

And then, slipping on his pair of iconic blue gloves and a mask to hide his face, Lance forced his mind to focus on the task at hand, and let out a slow breath.

 

“Time to go to work.” 

  
  
  


 

**Author's Note:**

> I got bored and this is the result. Updates will be sporadic but I needed to write something other than what I've been working on. Hope you enjoy thus far, I have some ideas as to where I wanna take this, but who knows. Writing is a wild thing, and I've never been known to write drafts. 
> 
> Check out [my tumblr](https://vulpes--vulpes.tumblr.com/)


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